Dickensians! discussion

Wonderful summary and analysis, Jean. This feels like a key turning point. Will the introduction of Frank bring Nicholas closer to the woman of his dreams, and at the same time be meaningful for his sister and tragic for young Smike? We shall see ...
Kathleen C

Bridget wrote: "Thank you, Jean, for the summary of this chapter. I always love your summaries, but when the chapter concerns John Browdie's accent I an even more grateful for them. Luckily, I understood the basic..."

Jean, I agree with Bridget about John Browdie's accent. I also get lost sometimes trying to figure out all that he is trying to say, and I appreciate your interpretations.

Bionic Jean wrote: "Bridget - I’m delighted you’re back commenting - and not to worry - as I think some are still on the previous thread.

And yes, bridesmaids (or maids of honour) did often accompany the couple on ho..."

Jean, I also thought of Hercule Poirot and his vegetable marrows when I read about the Nicklebys' neighbor. I seem to remember that he accidentally threw one over his wall at the beginning of one of the books.

Poor Smike! I hope he finds happiness somehow.

Smike has been showing his affection for Kate by planting flowers near her favorite place in the garden, but Kate just regards him as a friend. Frank seems to be noticing Kate, and it would be great if she could find love with a gentleman after all she's been through with Sir Mulberry Hawk and his buddies.

Smike seems to be such a tragic, fragile young man. He's been through so much abuse in his short life that I worry about him. Fred Barnard's illustration of Smike grieving was heartbreaking.

Thanks for your excellent summaries, Jean.

A further thought from Fanny's "explosion" in Ch 42:
One of the many joys of reading Dickens is his genius for ridicule. Even within his most serious novels, he introduces, for comic effect, characters who — not only through their peculiar appearance but more particularly through their behavior — provide opportunities for ridicule. They are emotionally pre=programmed to make themselves appear foolish. And because they bring ridicule upon themselves, we feel no restraint in laughing at their expense. Fanny Squeers is surely one of the best examples; she is so frustrated, spiteful and self-absorbed that whatever misfortune she may suffer, we feel it to be well deserved. Huffing and half choking on her words, she brings to mind a wonderful phrase that originated in the American south: “mad as a wet hen”!
Delightful!

Katy wrote: "Jean, I also thought of Hercule Poirot and his vegetable marrows when I read about the Nicklebys' neighbor. I seem to remember that he accidentally threw one over his wall at the beginning of one of the books."

Yes, he does that near the beginning of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. The throwing of vegetable marrows over the wall here had me thinking about that, too! :-)

That's the one!! Thanks Katy and Werner. If I say anything like that in real life, people are inclined to go quiet (and no doubt think oh, she's off again, finding Charles Dickens everywhere. But he is 🥰😆)

Kathleen, Katy and Connie, your kind words have made me smile thank you!

Jim - YAY - you're back commenting! I was about to message you to make sure all is well ...

"whatever misfortune she may suffer, we feel it to be well deserved" - oh yes indeed! And I love that new-to-me expression "mad as a wet hen", which I shall squirrel away in my brain beside Mr Pluck and Mr Pyke's "spiflicate" 🤣 (We have "mad as a March hare", or "mad as a box of frogs".)

Connie wrote: "Smike has been showing his affection for Kate by planting flowers near her favorite place in the garden, but Kate just regards him as a friend. Frank seems to be noticing Kate, and it would be grea..."

Connie

I too was moved by the Barnard illustration. Its proportions are perfect, the setting both delicate and somber, and the position of Smike so very powerful. After all Smike has endured surely there must be some reward for him.

Connie and Peter - I have to say I agree. As soon as I saw it I thought a dark plate with the face hidden was ideal for this scene. Much as I enjoy the caricatures of Hablot Knight Browne, and admire how much he could encapsulate in one scene, when he had little to no idea of the following text, I do sometimes yearn for realism. In this dark plate by Fred Barnard, we really believe that this is a fellow human who feels beyond hope, and is suffering.

You've given us so many wonderful illustrations, Jean, and this one by Barnard is no exception. My heart already aches for Smike, and Barnard captures that perfectly.

Jean has already used my favorite quote, but its so good I'm going to refer to it again. What a wonderful meta moment when Tim Linkinwater talks about London as a place full of coincidences. It certainly is that way in the Dickens novels!

London

It does, doesn't it Bridget, and it struck me because in many ways London is like that. Thanks for highlighting that this is the way that Charles Dickens sees London.

When I am there I'm aware (like Smike was) of how luxury and poverty sit side by side. The most expensive commercial and residential areas abut areas of social deprivation. I know exactly why Charles Dickens loved London as it is so full of variety: of life, of places, cultures and characters. It is a true mix.

The poet and literary scholar Mark Ford says that Charles Dickens represents the London of Nicholas Nickleby as:

"a bewildering fragmentary jumble, a chaos of diversely obsessive activity that defies interpretation or even definition."

and I think this is exactly how London even now might come across to a visitor, particularly a non-English one. It is probably because it is so old, and has grown, rather than the newish cities that spring up and proliferate in some countries.

He goes on to compare Charles Dickens's London with Mrs Nickleby!:

"The city lacks, like Mrs Nickleby, a coherent point or centre, but shares her capacity for ceaseless flow, and constantly surprising detail ... whereas the London of Dickens' later novels tends to be given focus by single institutions - such as Chancery or the Marshalsea."

Mark Ford thinks that this is primarily the difference between an author who has a sketchwriter's eye for peculiarities, (as Charles Dickens was at the beginning of his writing career) rather than a novelist's concern for cohesion, pattern and meaning.

For me though, the London of Nicholas Nickleby is a character in itself, as wildly creative and random as Mrs Nickleby or Mr Mantalini, where coincidences can and do abound. It has a vitality which we can only ever really glimpse again, in the novels where the institutions are the focus. The institutions then become paramount; significant symbols, which are shown to link all strata of society.

But it's not like that here, yet, in this novel. This is the London of a young man; Charles Dickens's later London is a more sober place entirely.

Bionic Jean wrote: "London

It does, doesn't it Bridget, and it struck me because in many ways London is like that. Thanks for highlighting that this is the way that Charles Dickens sees London.

When ..."

Our conversation is very fresh in my experience. Our son-in-law lived in London for 18 years before coming to Canada, meeting our daughter, and, as they say, the rest is history. He went back to London two weeks ago to celebrate his best friend’s birthday.

My wife and I had our daughter, son-in-law, and two grandchildren for dinner last night. When I asked him what London was like after being away for 18 years he looked at me and said ‘It has everything.’ A rather Dickensian comment I think.

That's perfect, Peter! 😊

Chapter 44: Mr. Ralph Nickleby cuts an old Acquaintance. It would also appear from the Contents hereof, that a Joke, even between Husband and Wife, may be sometimes carried too far

The narrator tells us that even the basest of rascals, knowing themselves well, may manage to assume a high moral tone, and sigh over the depravity of the world. Perhaps in this they hope to cheat Heaven, and write diaries and autobiographies which show themselves in a good light. No doubt the narrator says, the recording Angel will be glad of the time they can save, because of these rascals’ accounts of their lives.

However Ralph Nickleby has no such pretence. “Stern, unyielding, dogged, and impenetrable”, his life is ruled solely by avarice and hatred; caring for nothing else and untouched by other desires. Yet he knows his own nature and does not try to appear different than what he is, sneering at human nature and believing that everyone else is the same as he is.

But we watch Ralph, scowling, as he demands news of someone, and how Newman Noggs seems pleased to tell his employer that the person has gone - and his friend Frederick too - to France. The doctor had ordered him to go, he answers, because of erysipelas [a skin infection] in his head. Ralph sneers at the man’s cowardice, taking his battering with him without wanting to avenge himself, contemptuously saying:

“But he’s too ill! Poor Sir Mulberry! Too ill!”

and that he personally would desire revenge all the more on his deathbed.

Having dismissed Noggs, Ralph broods on Nicholas’s “Devil’s luck”. However, he is confident that Sir Mulberry Hawk will return, which makes his face relax a little; and now his frown is “one of calculation, and not of disappointment.”

He judges that his desire for vengeance will only be inflamed by his term as an invalid. Hawk is bound to remember who had condemned him to suffer for those months. He turns his mind to Squeers.

Ralph tells Noggs that if Squeers pays him a visit, there will probably be another man with him. They should arrive by 9pm , and are to wait for him. He then makes his visits to those who owe him money, who are from all walks of life.

To wealthy people, Ralph is “all softness and cringing civility”, but with the poor he is “harsh and loud … his threats … coarse and angry”. To dishonest attorneys who throw business his way, he is familiar, sharing jokes and news about bankruptcies and those in financial difficulties which would be good for trade. Ralph presents many different faces, but with everyone he makes the same two complaints: that the world thinks he is rich, and how hard it is to get money once it is lent out.

By evening he has finished, and is going home from Pimlico, walking along by St James’s Park. Preoccupied, he doesn’t notice that he is being followed by a “shambling figure … with an eye so keen, and a look so eager and attentive.” The threatening weather erupts into a storm, so Ralph takes shelter from the rain, under a tree.

He is astonished to see a man “peer[ing] into his face with a searching look”, and the man seems to recognise Ralph’s expression, as he says his name. Ralph looks at him closely:

“A spare, dark, withered man, of about his own age, with a stooping body, and a very sinister face rendered more ill-favoured by hollow and hungry cheeks, deeply sunburnt, and thick black eyebrows, blacker in contrast with the perfect whiteness of his hair; roughly clothed in shabby garments, of a strange and uncouth make; and having about him an indefinable manner of depression and degradation.”

Gradually, despite the changes over 8 years, Ralph recognises him too.

The man asks Ralph to listen and pity him.



“I am a most miserable and wretched outcast, nearly sixty years old, and as destitute and helpless as a child of six” - Fred Barnard - 1875

He says he had once been as much in Ralph’s confidence as anyone ever is, and is now in great need. He had come to London yesterday, hoping to see Ralph, and had searched him out. He begs him to help saying he has not even a crust of dry hard bread, but Ralph advises him to be more subtle, or nobody will help him. Ralph looks hard and immoveable.

The man desperately asks for work. He is nearly 60 (Ralph says dismissively that he is the same), and destitute, a “miserable and wretched outcast”.

The falling out they had had was twenty years previous. The man had claimed what he felt was his share of the business he had brought to Ralph, but Ralph had pressed charges against him. When the man was in danger of being put in prison, Ralph had relented and had taken him back as his clerk. Ralph agreed he had been “kind”:

“You were useful; not too honest, not too delicate, not too nice of hand or heart; but useful.”

The man said he then served Ralph faithfully for many years, and while there he:

“possessed myself of a hold upon you, which you would give half of all you have to know, and never can know but through me.”

Eventually the man was sent away as a convict for seven years, although he protests that what he had done was no worse that what was practised now. He begs Ralph to help him; it would be an easy bargain for Ralph as his needs are few. Ralph wants to know what to call him now, and the man says the same name as of old: “Mr Brooker”.

But Ralph still refuses saying in his harshest tones:

“You a hold upon me! Keep it, or publish it to the world, if you like.”

Mr Brooker can not get anything out of him, because although all the world knows what sort of man Ralph is, he is careful and knows his affairs thoroughly. Mr Brooker tells Ralph that he can restore something to him, but Ralph says his money is accounted for. He then asks if he cares for his family, but the thought of Nicholas inflames Ralph even further, and he contemptuously throws the man off. Mr Brooker remains on the same spot, watching Ralph’s figure until it is lost to view, and then resumes his begging.

Ralph walks on past the park, past Golden Square, and on to the West End. He makes his way to Madame Mantalini’s, whose shop now bears Miss Knag’s name. Ralph considers this thoughtfully, but decides that there is still money to be made. They can’t last long though, so he must watch the business closely.

There is a commotion upstairs, and a servant comes running out. Ralph
tells her off for broadcasting family matters to the neighbours, and ushers her back inside. He goes upstairs and is amazed by what he sees. Mr. Mantalini is on the floor, pale, motionless and with clenched teeth. He has a little bottle in his right hand, and a little tea-spoon in his left, and is supported by a footman who looks confused at his rigid form.



“Mr. Mantalini Poisons Himself for the Seventh Time” - Hablot K. Browne (Phiz) - May 1839

Madame Mantalini and Miss Knag are crying, and the young women assistants are confused about what to do. Some believe he is dead, having poisoned himself as he had always promised. Some believe a doctor should be called, because he can be saved, but some believe he is faking it.



“Ralph Nickleby discovers that Mantalini has attempted suicide — again” - Harry Furniss - 1910

When Madame Mantalini speaks, a gurgling endearment issues from the motionless body, which causes the footman to drop Mr Mantalini’s head with a “pretty loud crash”. Madame Mantalini tells Ralph that she has been a fool; her husband has duped her so many times. This time, though, she means it. She refuses to support him.

Mr. Mantalini suddenly recovers, lamenting loudly and cursing the apothecary for not making the prussic acid strong enough. Madame Mantalini remains unmoved. She wants a separation, stressing his infidelities, and that he had “poisoned himself in private no less than six times within the last fortnight, and her not having once interfered by word or deed to save his life.”

Ralph warns her to remember that a married woman has no property, but Madame Mantalini says that everything is now in Miss Knag’s name. Miss Knag, realising the business would never thrive as long as Mr. Mantalini had such strong influence, had investigated his affairs, and imparted her discoveries to Madame Mantalini.

“Although Mr. Mantalini leered till his eyes seemed in danger of never coming back to their right places again, Madame Mantalini showed no signs of softening.”

We are told that an “accidental discovery by Miss Knag of some tender correspondence, in which Madame Mantalini was described as ‘old’ and ‘ordinary,’ had most providentially contributed.”

Madame Mantalini leans on Miss Knag for support, and all the young assistant milliners accompany them as they leave the room. As they are leaving, Mr. Mantalini asks Ralph to be a witness to the fact that he forgives his wife for not realising how blessed she is to have him, and how much he loves her.

“With this affecting speech Mr. Mantalini fell down again very flat, and lay to all appearance without sense or motion, until all the females had left the room, when he came cautiously into a sitting posture, and confronted Ralph with a very blank face, and the little bottle still in one hand and the tea-spoon in the other.”

Ralph tells him that all his fooleries are now over, and he will no longer help him. He must live by his wits again.

Ralph makes a note in his book, and returns to the office. When Noggs tells him that the two men have arrived, he demands that Noggs orders a coach, which he has never done before. Ralph then leaves with Mr. Squeers and another man whom Noggs does not know. Noggs is alarmed when he accidentally hears the address Ralph gives to the coachman. He tries to follow on, but is too late.

A grey-haired beggar comes up to Noggs, and Noggs tries to find him a few halfpence in his hat. The man says something which intrigues him, and soon the two are walking along, the man deep in conversation.

And a little more …

Just a reminder that a married woman had no property at this time. Until the Married Women’s Property Act of 1882, a married woman’s legal identity derived wholly from her husband, who assumed the legal right to all her property. So Ralph Nickleby is actually giving Madame Mantalini good advice, (although of course he is probably thinking to protect his source of money).

And erysipelas is the same disease that was mentioned in ch 18 as “St Anthony’s fire”. It is an inflammation of the skin.

I do wonder if Charles Dickens had some specific “diaries and autobiographies which show themselves in a good light” in mind when he wrote that criticism! I'll try to find out.

What an intriguing chapter! We both begin and end with a sinister stranger - a beggar - and we are told the name of the first: “Mr Brooker”. I wonder if these two are linked, or even the same one. There is evidently some mystery in the back story here, and if Mr Brooker was “sent away a convict for seven years” what could this have been for? We are given to understand that it is some dodgy money dealings, but if he had been transported then surely he would not have returned - and destitute too. It’s all a bit of a puzzle.

I liked the pathetic fallacy of the storm breaking, just before a mystery was imparted to us.

Did you notice Ralph’s pun on “tell”? He’s quite a clever chap, for all his defects of character. When the beggar says he has something to tell him, he retorts: “I tell my money pretty accurately, and generally keep it in my own custody” meaning Ralph counts his money up! 😁

Well here’s another point of peripety for a character - in this case Mr Mantalini. His pretences at suicide have failed more than 6 times according to his wife, and she really has finished with him now. As Ralph says, he will have to think of some other way of life. I like Ralph's observation about Mr Mantalini (or Mr Muntle!) which seems almost Shakespearean:

“Half knave and half fool, and detected in both characters? I think your day is over, sir.”

And Lord Verisopht and Mulberry Hawk have fled to France, supposedly under the advice of a doctor for a condition of Hawk’s probably invented on the spur of the moment by Noggs. 😆

But my favourite quotation is when Madame Mantalini wants a separation:

“I’ll have one in law—I can—and I hope this will be a warning to all girls who have seen this disgraceful exhibition.’
Miss Knag, who was unquestionably the oldest girl in company, said with great solemnity, that it would be a warning to her, and so did the young ladies generally, with the exception of one or two who appeared to entertain some doubts whether such whispers could do wrong.“ 😂

And yours?

Mr Brooker. Now here is a very interesting development. With Brooker’s introduction we have many complications and issues presented to us. Why would Dickens introduce a new character so far into the novel? Clearly, there is a history between him and Ralph, not only a relationship, but a former working relationship of some sort. Brooker seems to believe he has information that would compromise Ralph Nickleby, but Nickleby does not seemed concerned.

What is the link between Newman Noggs and Brooker? I get the feeling that Brooker’s connection to Ralph Nickleby mirrors in some way Newman Noggs present relationship to Ralph Nickleby.

We didn’t need reminding but Ralph Nickleby further reveals his odious nature in his conversation with Brooker. Dickens keeps us in suspense throughout the chapter. The ending of the chapter creates great tension. Whatever it is that Brooker says or reveals to Newman Noggs the two men walk ‘side by side — the strange man talking earnestly, and Newman listening.’

Another plot twist must be in the wind.

Charles Dickens loves his hints and mysteries, clues and deceptions, doesn't he?

For instance, are we sure we know who the two people in the previous two chapters are? At the end of chapter 43 Charles Dickens did not tell us who the figure clasping his hands wildly in the air was, and Hablot Knight Browne did not illustrate it - probably for this reason. Charles Dickens usually stipulated exactly what he wanted for his contemporary illustrations, and I would imagine he wanted to keep this slight air of mystery.

We may have made an educated guess, as to the figure described being Smike, (as you and others said Peter) because of all the indications in the text as to his adoration of Kate (as Werner said). The corroboration of an illustration to the scene actually came 36 years later, by an artist who obviously had access to the whole text, although in chapter 43, like us, his idea was merely heavy suspicion.

Now it is happening again, in chapter 44. We are not told that the beggar at the end is Mr Brooker. We are left to guess ... but it is still a leap of faith. We have had no prior clues.

Smike, then? And Brooker? Assumptions are dangerous. Even in this early novel there is evidence that Charles Dickens is a master of misdirection. Maybe neither of these two is an example, but not everything is as it seems in this book, so we have to keep our eyes open. 🤔

Yes, we need to ponder what hold Brooker thinks he might have over Ralph. Ralph is usually astute about these things, so it is strange as you say Peter, that he seems so unconcerned.

Drive there! What can come of this!
Another detail to raise the dramatic tension! Where do we think "there" may be? Perhaps the residence of Nicholas and his family? In which case, Newman Noggs thought to warn them but was unable to do so. We know that Squeers is still determined to recapture Smike and have his revenge upon Nicholas. An unidentified third man has been recruited; it appears that the flock of vultures is growing.

I had the same thought, Jim, that Ralph, Squeers and the unknown other might be headed for Nicholas’ home especially because of Noggs’ reaction. But does Ralph know where they are living? Are we to assume that he would because of his senior position in the Nickleby family though he isn’t providing them any support? I’m still concerned about Smike too.

The tension is mounting, and if anything the mystery is increasing! Let's move on and see if we get any clarification.

Chapter 45: Containing Matter of a surprising Kind

The Browdies are visiting the Nicklebys. John is very merry, and and says that since he and his wife are leaving the next day, he will raise a glass to their next meeting.

Mrs. Nickleby has permitted them to come to tea, because she knows that John has helped her son. However she feels uncomfortable, for although she often says she:

“had not an atom of pride or formality about her, still she was a great stickler for dignity and ceremonies … [and] there should be a sort of condescension on my part.”

It would not be proper to invite them to tea before calling upon them first - to send her card. Then all Mrs Browdie would need to do would be to send her card back.

Nicholas tells her that the Browdies are unsophisticated, and would never own such a thing as a calling card. Realising this, Mrs. Nickleby decides that her condescension and a civil air will be all that is necessary, and says she is sure that are good people.

The Browdies arrive, and are very deferential to Mrs Nickleby, which pleases her no end. She whispers to Kate that they are “the very best-meaning people she had ever seen, and perfectly well behaved.”

The two young women get along very well together, and Mrs. Browdie thinks Mrs. Nickleby is rather high in her notions, but very kind. For her part:

“’Mr. Browdie,’ said Kate, addressing his young wife, ‘is the best-humoured, the kindest and heartiest creature I ever saw. If I were oppressed with I don’t know how many cares, it would make me happy only to look at him’”

and Mrs Nickleby agrees, saying that she likes them to see her in a plain and homely manner, as she is not keen on making a display (thereby implying, the narrator says, that she could, if she wanted to) because it would make her visitors feel uncomfortable. Mrs Browdie thanks her, and comments on how late it is. Mrs. Nickleby immediately claims they are used to staying up this late, and even until 3 am, for all the balls dinners and card-parties they used to attend. She prattles on, and Kate sees that it would be as well to end the evening by taking over the conversation from her mother.

She reminds John Browdie that he had promised to sing them a Yorkshire song. He proceeds to sing them a sad, romantic song “in a voice of thunder”.

There is a loud knock at the door, despite the lateness of the hour, and Ralph Nickleby enters:

“‘Stay,’ said Ralph, as Nicholas rose, and Kate, making her way towards him, threw herself upon his arm. ‘Before that boy says a word, hear me.’”

John Browdie also gets between Ralph and Nicholas, even though he has never seen him before. Seeing that Nicholas is speechless with rage for the moment, John tells Ralph to say what he has to say, while warning him not to put anybody’s blood up, rather than stay quiet.

“‘I should know you,’ said Ralph, ‘by your tongue; and him’ (pointing to Smike) ‘by his looks.’”

Nicholas demands that Ralph leave, saying that his presence is an insult to his sister, and that he corrupts the very air they breathe. He has to be held back by John, because he is burning with fury. But John can see a shadow behind the door, and demands that the schoolmaster show himself. Squeers is therefore obliged to enter in a “somewhat undignified and sneaking way”, the manner of which causes John to laugh in delight, and Kate almost feels inclined to join in.

Ralph waits for silence, and then addresses himself to Mrs Nickleby, saying that he knows her son will not listen to her wise counsel. Mrs Nickleby sighs, in tacit agreement. Ralph then continues with his reason for being there: “looking round with a biting and triumphant smile, and gloating and dwelling upon the words.” He tells them he is there to reunite Smike with his father, accusing Nicholas of having a “base design of robbing him some day of any little wretched pittance of which he might become possessed.”

Nicholas says that Ralph knows he is lying. Squeers fetches Mr. Snawley, “a sleek personage with an oily face”, who awkwardly tucks Smike’s head under his arm, and makes an extravagant declaration of joy, whereupon Ralph tells him to be calm.



“Mr. Snawley Enlarges on Parental Instinct” - Hablot K. Browne - May 1839

Mr Snawley continues:

“Yes, here he is, flesh and blood, flesh and blood.’
‘Vary little flesh,’ said John Browdie.“

Mr Snawley cries on about his fatherly yearnings when he saw Smike at his house, and how angry he had been, when he learned that Smike had run away from his guardians.



“Mr. Snawley’s thankfulness on discovering Smike” - Harry Furniss - 1910

Everyone watching seems stupified, but Smike breaks free and begs Nicholas to let him stay with him; to live and die with him. Nicholas tells Snawley that if he is Smike’s father and sees his son’s condition, he would not be willing to return him to “that loathsome den”. Squeers vows that he will be even with Nicholas, one way or another.

Ralph wants to cut this short. He says that the boy is Snawley’s son by his first marriage. He and his wife had separated when the boy was a year old, and the boy went to live with her. She told him the boy had died a year or two later. He had received a letter just a few days ago, which had been delayed. It was from her, when she was working as a housekeeper, about 18 months ago. His estranged wife told him she was now dying, and confessed to lying about the boy’s death, “as part of a system of annoyance, in short, which you seem to have adopted towards each other”. As the child was slightly retarded, she had sent him away to a Yorkshire boarding school, but when she could no longer pay, she abandoned him. She prays for forgiveness.

“‘This is your pocket-book … the certificates of your first marriage and of the boy’s birth, and your wife’s two letters, and every other paper that can support these statements directly or by implication, are here.”

So saying, Ralph produces the documents to prove the truth of the story, and tells them that the law is on his side. He could have sent for the police, but he didn’t out of respect for Kate. Nicholas sarcastically comments on how much Ralph regards Kate’s feelings. However, on close examination of the documents, he says to Kate that he fears it is all true, and John agrees.

Squeers wants to know if “Master Snawley” is to go with them, but Smike refuses, desperately “drawing back, and clinging to Nicholas”. Squeers advances towards Smike, but John Browdie jerks his elbow in his chest and Squeers falls on to Ralph Nickleby. There is a great commotion, and Squeers begins to haul Smike out, but Nicholas grabs his collar, and thrusts him into the passage, shutting the door.

He tells Snawley that Smike has chosen to stay with him:

“’I would not give him up against his will, to be the victim of such brutality as that to which you would consign him,’ replied Nicholas, ‘if he were a dog or a rat.’”

Mrs. Nickleby says she does not know what to do for the best, but wants to settle things in a friendly manner. “Nicholas ought to be the best judge, and I hope he is.”

She suggest that Mr. Snawley could pay a little for Smike’s board and lodging, but everyone ignores her, as it does not serve any purpose. Snawley calls Smike ungrateful for not letting him love him, and Squeers says that Smike is incapable of loving anyone. He never loved the schoolmaster or Wackford, “who is next door but one to a cherubim”.

Ralph says he is not surprised that Nicholas will not give up Smike that night. “Pride, obstinacy, reputation for fine feeling, were all against it.”

He knows that Nicholas considers himself a hero, but he warns that he will only bring misery to Smike. He leaves, and Squeers dances about, making hideous faces “expressive of his triumphant confidence in the downfall and defeat of Nicholas”, before he too leaves them all to their thoughts.



"Squeers thumbs his nose at Nicholas" - Fred Barnard 1875

This is the end of Installment 14. Installment 15 begins with Chapter 46 on Thursday.

Well - what do we think to this? Charles Dickens is playing havoc with my emotions, and I'm so excited to learn what you all have to say!

Oh, just one tiny note which might easily slip by, but made me laugh ... When Mrs Nickleby mentioned the "Saracen with Two Necks" did that sound a bit odd? (Especially coming after John Browdie's "Sarah's Head"?) She has actually conflated the names of two inns: The Saracen's Head on Snow Hill, and The Swan with Two Necks on Ludgate Hill 😆

Anyway, take a deep breath, enjoy the day off, or catch up if you need to, and I'll see everyone on Thursday!

Thank you Jean!

There was indeed a lot of action in this chapter, but some questions are still unsolved.

- Is Snawley really Smike's father in spite of his documents? We have met him in chapter 4 as a great supplier of pupils for Dotheboys and therefore a business partner of Squeers'. We learnt back then that he sent two stepsons up to Yorkshire.

- Is Mr Brooker the beggar who said something of consequence to Newman Noggs (chapter 44) so that both are now apparently headed to Nickleby's cottage?

- Who is actually Mr Brooker? We know that he was connected to Ralph in the past.

- Something in the description of Mr Brooker (tanned complexion, black eyebrows) "A dark, withered man" in chapter 44 are exactly the same words by Smike in chapter 22 when he told Nicholas of what he remembered from his past and particularly a dark, withered man he was afraid of and who apparently was with him and may have left him at Dotheboys.

- We don't know much about who "disposed of" Smike at Dotheboys. Mr Squeers revealed but a few details on a "strange man" (a stranger) who brought Smike about 14 years ago and paid for Smike's boarding "six or eight years" but stopped doing so and was no more heard of. (Chapter 34)

Claudia wrote: " Something in the description of Mr Brooker (tanned complexion, black eyebrows) "A dark, withered man" in chapter 44 are exactly the same words by Smike in chapter 22 when he told Nicholas of what he remembered from his past and particularly a dark, withered man he was afraid of and who apparently was with him and may have left him at Dotheboys."

Excellent catch Claudia! Thank you for reminding us of Smike's memory in Chapter 22. Very interesting. I might take this day off to go back and re-read that chapter. I seem to recall Smike had other memories of the room he lived in before Dotheboys.

I doubt very much that Snawley is in fact Smike's father. Those letters from the mother are things that can be fabricated so easily. I think Ralph is practiced at using the law to entrap people. I suspect that's what he did to Mr. Booker and also to Noggs.

My thoughts exactly, Claudia, regarding Brooker's possible connection to Smike. Smike has become a real and very important mystery in the developing plot.

After several days of not being able to read or comment, I have finally caught up again. There is so much I would have wanted to say, but I find most of it has been said by others and need not be repeated.

I love the discussion of London and how today's London reflects Dickens' London. I enjoyed all the humor Dickens threw at us over the last several chapters, but I am glad to move back to the more serious side. He always seems to know precisely when to do that. His timing is all instinct, I think, and quite impeccable.

Jean...you ought to know that your summaries and "bit mores" are priceless; they raise questions I might have failed to ask myself, especially when I am in catch-up mode. I do hope I can keep on schedule starting with Thursday's discussion.

Sara wrote: "I enjoyed all the humor Dickens threw at us over the last several chapters, but I am glad to move back to the more serious side. He always seems to know precisely when to do that. His timing is all instinct, I think, and quite impeccable."

It is exactly what I think, Sara! Moreover Dickens is an expert on having some apparently unimportant or anecdotal protagonists resurfacing, therefore I have become more observant after a few novels by him.

Yes, Bridget, Snawley's attitude sounds totally unconvincing - in addition he would send Smike back to Dotheboys!

Dickens has me so delightfully confused. Excellent points all and each comment has me wondering what to think. I imagine that’s what Dickens wanted.

I don’t trust Snawley. While I really don’t like Ralph Nickleby, he appears to be forthright in what he says and the way he acts. Indeed, he seems to enjoy attracting the disfavour and animosity of others.

Brooker is a wild card. Introduced in the most recent chapters he has obvious links to Ralph Nickleby, has been able to capture Newman Noggs’ attention, and raise the readers’ curiosity. Not bad for a one chapter appearance.

Agreed, Peter. The most intriguing thing Brooker said (for me) was "Are those of your own name dear to you?" I am wondering to whom he refers, since I doubt seriously this has anything to do with Nicholas or Kate. Another hidden story that is about to come to light. Think of all the back-stories Dickens has had to weave together for just this one novel!

I agree with all of you. I don't think Snawley is Smike's father despite the documents. I was very intrigued by the introduction of Brooker and am amazed by what Claudia pointed out about how Brooker's description matches Smike's memory of who might have left him at Dotheboys. I'm afraid my brain doesn't retain these small comments. So thanks for the reminder.
If I really get my imagination going, I wondered if Brooker could have worked for Ralph and was directed to get rid of a child (Smike) for him versus maybe being related to him.

On another note, it has always bothered me that Ralph seemed to have such an instant hate for Nicholas and I've felt I missed something for why this antipathy existed. But in Chap 44, Dickens describes Ralph's two passions: Avarice and hatred. What a sad man.

I had a real hoot with a comment after Mrs. Nickleby's illumination of domesticity & the domestic arts to Mrs. Browdie. The good Lady (NIckleby) had about as much share, either in theory or practice, as any one of the statues of the Twelve Apostles which embellish the exterior of St. Paul's cathedral. LOL.

Chris wrote: "I agree with all of you. I don't think Snawley is Smike's father despite the documents. I was very intrigued by the introduction of Brooker and am amazed by what Claudia pointed out about how Bro..."

The whole thing is really puzzling, and the fruit of your imagination may be a possibility, Chris.

I suspect it is exactly and typically how Dickens wanted us to feel after chapters 44 and 45: keeping his readers on alert until next installment!

I agree that I cannot believe that Snawley is Smike's father. It's too much of a coincidence that he just happens to show up when Ralph and Squeers want to get Smike away from Nicholas. He sure isn't good parent material.

Thank you Claudia, for catching the resemblance between Brooker and the man Smike remembered. I would never have caught that.

Just noting I had to play catch-up again and will withold adding comments till I reread the last two chapters and notes once more and even then will wait for a time I can offer something interesting.

Claudia wrote: "Is Snawley really Smike's father in spite of his documents? We have met him in chapter 4 as a great supplier of pupils for Dotheboys and therefore a business partner of Squeers'. We learnt back then that he sent two stepsons up to Yorkshire..."

Now that you mention this, Claudia, it has me wondering if those two young boys were really Snawley's stepsons, just as is Smike really his son? Is some kind of trafficking going on, where Ralph Nickleby provides the documentation? Surely not in Dickens' day? Would they have been that sophisticated? And if so, who really were the fathers of these three boys? So many questions!

Chris wrote: "I had a real hoot with a comment after Mrs. Nickleby's illumination of domesticity & the domestic arts to Mrs. Browdie. The good Lady (NIckleby) had about as much share, either in theory or practice, as any one of the statues of the Twelve Apostles which embellish the exterior of St. Paul's cathedral. LOL..."

Yes, indeed, Chris! I had to go back and read it twice. That comparison! That was so funny!

And I didn't comment earlier, but I felt like singing "Ding dong, the witch is dead, the wicked witch, the wicked witch is dead!" (The Wizard of Oz) when I read that Mr. Mantelini is hopefully finally done for! LOL

There is so much tension now, after so many days of light-heartedness!

Sara said "I am glad to move back to the more serious side. He always seems to know precisely when to do that. His timing is all instinct, I think, and quite impeccable."

(and thank you for your kind words, Sara 😊)

and I think many of us think that Claudia, Shirley and other who have probably said this earlier as well. We keep finding this.

So hold on to your hats, as we have yet more thickening of the plot in today's fairytale situation.

Installment 15:

Chapter 46: Throws some Light upon Nicholas’s Love; but whether for Good or Evil the Reader must determine

Nicholas feels that he has to tell Charles Cheeryble about Smike’s history and why he felt justified in interfering with Smike being reunited with his father.

“‘So deeply rooted does this horror of the man appear to be,’ said Nicholas, ‘that I can hardly believe he really is his son,’”

But Charles Cheeryble says that there are many cases where parents do not love their children, or children who do not love their parents; he sees them every day. If Smike has only ever known suffering and sorrow, and then a man comes along who proposes to take him away from his current happiness and put him back where he had been, of course he would resist that man; it would be entirely natural.

Then Mr Cheeryble reveals that Ralph Nickleby had come to see them earlier, trying to turn them against Nicholas:

“He would listen neither to reason, feeling, nor justice. But brother Ned was hard upon him … brother Ned, sir, is a perfect lion. So is Tim Linkinwater; Tim is quite a lion. We had Tim in to face him at first, and Tim was at him, sir, before you could say “Jack Robinson.”’

Nicholas is very grateful, and Mr Cheeryble says:

“I have seen the father—if he is the father—and I suppose he must be. He is a barbarian and a hypocrite, Mr. Nickleby. I told him [so]”

He advises Nicholas to keep quiet about the matter for the present. He doesn’t believe anything will come of it.

Mr Cheeryble then changes the subject, saying that he needs Nicholas to handle a confidential matter involving the young lady he had walked in on some time ago.

“Like the famous parrot, Nicholas thought a great deal, but was unable to utter a word.”

Charles Cheeryble tells the story of how he had loved the woman’s mother many years ago, and his brother Ned was to marry the mother’s sister. The sister had died, and Charles’s love decided to marry someone else: “a gay young man with great friends about him”. But her husband was profligate and squandered their money, so that the marriage was an unhappy one.

A year before her death, his old love appealed to him “sadly altered, broken-spirited from suffering and ill-usage, and almost broken-hearted”. He freely gave her money on several occasions, which her husband spent freely and taunted her about it, since he knew who had given it to her.

The woman had died when the young woman Nicholas had seen was still only a child. The father is not kind to her, neglecting her needs with his own selfishness. However, her mother had loved him despite all this, and had asked her daughter to care for him after she had gone. Now the man is hiding from his creditors, and his daughter is supporting him. Her servant is the woman Tim Linkinwater was going to marry, who has stayed with her out of devotion.

“‘Is he kind to her?’ said Nicholas. ‘Does he requite her affection?’
‘True kindness, considerate self-denying kindness, is not in his nature,’ returned Mr. Cheeryble. ‘Such kindness as he knows, he regards her with, I believe.’“

The daughter has refused help from her mother’s friends because she refuses to comply with their demands that she give up her father. She had worked as a governess and suffered many problems at work. Frank had seen her within two days of returning to England but lost sight of her. She had come to Charles Cheeryble in desperation.

“If her father were dead, nothing could be easier, for then she should share and cheer the happiest home that brother Ned and I could have, as if she were our child or sister. But he is still alive. Nobody can help him; that has been tried a thousand times; he was not abandoned by all without good cause, I know.”

Charles Cheeryble has been giving her small amounts of money; she asks for small amounts, for then it is easier to keep it from her father, who would spend it. She collects it at night. The brothers have decided to buy her drawings and other ornaments to sell, and keep up a constant demand for them. This would explain how she makes her money, and it would make her feel less indebted to them if she believed they were selling them for a profit.

“In this guileless and most kind simplicity, brother Charles was so happy, and in this possibility of the young lady being led to think that she was under no obligation to him, he evidently felt so sanguine and had so much delight, that Nicholas would not breathe a doubt upon the subject.”

Charles Cheeryble wants Nicholas to pretend to be their dealer. Her father knows Charles and Ned, so neither of them can act the part. In his opinion Frank is too flighty, and would fall in love with the girl. Mr Cheeryble says that he had discovered that Frank was actually defending the girl’s honour the night Nicholas met him. Nicholas stammers out that he had suspected as much, and is about to confess that he loves her too, but decides not to. Nicholas believes he can restrain himself, and feels that he owes them this much, since there seems to be no one else the Cheerybles can trust to handle the matter. The narrator comments:

“Such is the sleight of hand by which we juggle with ourselves, and change our very weaknesses into stanch [staunch] and most magnanimous virtues!”

Nicholas goes to their house, which is situated within “the Rules” of the King’s Bench Prison, and not far from the obelisk in St George’s Fields. The house is a very shabby one in a row of similar houses in a very dirty and dusty suburb. Everything inside is neglected or in disrepair. A small boy screams down to the cellar for the young woman’s servant, and is shown upstairs, to where she sits drawing at a table. Now that Nicholas knows her story, she seems:

“a thousand times more beautiful than he had ever yet supposed her. [And] how the graces and elegancies which she had dispersed about the poorly-furnished room went to the heart of Nicholas … replete with that graceful charm which lingers in every little tasteful work of woman’s hands, how much patient endurance and how many gentle affections were entwined!“



"Nicholas Makes His First Visit to Mr. Bray" - Hablot K. Browne (Phiz) - June 1839

Nicholas looks round at the flowers, plants, birds, the harp, and the old piano and is entranced. Then his attention is caught by a sick man, no more than 50, who is propped up with pillows in an easy-chair.

“His looks were very haggard, and his limbs and body literally worn to the bone, but there was something of the old fire in the large sunken eye notwithstanding.”



“Walter Bray and Madeline” - Sol Eytinge - 1867

The man behaves very imperiously, demanding to know what Nicholas is doing there. Nicholas explains that he is there as an agent, and is calling as had been agreed about a pair of hand-screens, and some painted velvet for an ottoman, and is also there to pay for two drawings. He puts an envelope on the table with the banknotes inside, and straightaway the man demands that his daughter, “Madeline” checks the money. She agrees that it is, but:

“She was so busily employed in arranging the pillows that Nicholas could not see her face, but as she stooped he thought he saw a tear fall.”



“The Controlling Debtor and his Noble-spirited Daughter” - Fred Barnard - 1875

Immediately her father starts planning to spend the money on his own wants, telling her to ring for the servant to fetch things:

“Now, Madeline, my love, quick, quick! Good God, how slow you are!”

Perhaps the man notices Nicholas’s expression, as he feels disgust at the man’s selfishness. At any rate, he begins to berate Nicholas, saying that he used to be a gentleman, and that this was not a favour but a matter of business. He must be given a receipt. Nicholas says he does not want to trouble the young lady with such forms, as he will hope to seeing her regularly for the business, but this further incenses the man:

“Every petty tradesman is to begin to pity her now, is he? Upon my soul! Very pretty.”

While Madeline pretends to write a receipt, Nicholas notices that sometimes the invalid gentleman does appear to suffer great bodily pain. He asks when he should call again. Madeline suggest in three or four weeks, but her father demands that he call next week. This too is a reason for a new tirade by the man about all the things they cannot do without.

After Nicholas has left, Madeline follows him lightly down the stairs, and asks him not to mention her mother’s friends to her father, saying that he has suffered lot and that today he is worse.

“‘You have but to hint a wish,’ returned Nicholas fervently, ‘and I would hazard my life to gratify it.’”

Madeline is a little taken aback by this, but Nicholas insists that he knows her story and cannot disguise his feelings, imploring her to believe that he speaks the truth:

“I do entreat you to believe that I would die to serve you.”

The young woman weeps, and waves her hand for him to leave. The narrator comments:

“And thus ended his first interview with Madeline Bray.”

And a little more …

The King's Bench Prison

We have come across the Kings Bench Prison before. In David Copperfield (view spoiler)[Mr Micawber (hide spoiler)] is imprisoned in the King’s Bench Prison, and in Little Dorrit, a lawyer tries to persuade (view spoiler)[ Arthur Clennam (hide spoiler)] to got to the King’s Bench Prison rather than the notorious Marshalsea, because it was a more pleasant gaol, inhabited by gentlemen and where the crimes were not as serious.

That is why (view spoiler)[ William Dorrit (hide spoiler)] is revered as the Father of the Marshalsea, because his dress, bearing and manners are out of the ordinary in the Marshalsea, and he is respected as belonging to a higher class. We assume he could not afford to have good legal advice, which would have enabled him to be placed in the appropriate prison. The Kings Bench Prison also features in our short read of Night Walks, led by Sam, and in Barnaby Rudge (which we have not yet read as a group). This though, is earlier than all those.

Three years after Nicholas Nickleby was published - in 1842 - it was renamed the Queen’s Bench Prison, taking debtors from the Marshalsea and Fleet Prisons. It was demolished in 1869.

Here is a good article https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/King%27...

If you have not read the first two novels I mentioned, there are just brief spoilers in this article viz. the 2 sentences comprising the 3rd paragraph under “Literary connections.”

“The Rules” at the Kings Bench prison

This is where Madeline Bray and her father live. Those who could afford it purchased ‘Liberty of the Rules’ allowing them to live within three square miles of the prison. Although they were more favoured debtors, they were still not supposed to go outside this area.

Charles Dickens makes his views on debtors’ prisons perfectly clear here:

“The Rules are a certain liberty adjoining the prison, and comprising some dozen streets in which debtors who can raise money to pay large fees, from which their creditors do not derive any benefit, are permitted to reside by the wise provisions of the same enlightened laws which leave the debtor who can raise no money to starve in jail, without the food, clothing, lodging, or warmth, which are provided for felons convicted of the most atrocious crimes that can disgrace humanity.”

A couple of extra notes:

The “Ruler”’s wife was “turpentining … a tent bedstead” in a back room, ready for the next lodger. Turpentine was applied to bedposts as a means of driving out fleas and cockroaches.

A “tent-bedstead” enabled the bed to be enclosed on all sides by a tent canopy.

And …

The Angel in the House

Everyone is so astute that I’m sure you picked this up about the “fairy” in the story:

“that graceful charm which lingers in every little tasteful work of woman’s hands, how much patient endurance and how many gentle affections were entwined”

It’s an example of the term “the angel in the house” which is sometimes used of Charles Dickens's writing, especially by those who don’t like him very much! 🙄 Charles Dickens honestly valued what Victorians thought of as admirable and worthy feminine attributes, which included quiet modesty, caring, kindness, devotion and domestic virtues, such as cleanliness, tidiness and organisation. His heroines often (but not always) display these attributes, which are not so fashionable in today’s world of “sassy” heroines.

Personally I love the variety of different women Charles Dickens portrays, which at least match the variety of his male characters, so it’s a non-starter for me, but I thought I should mention the theory.

Bad Parenting

It occurs to me that Walter Bray is yet another example of bad parenting, which is a major theme in Nicholas Nickleby.

Initially Nicholas was inadvertently misled by Noggs, into tracking down Cecilia Bobster, with her wicked ogre of a father. But the reality of his imagined love - now at last given a name, Madeline Bray - seems to be leading exactly the same sort of life, with a selfish father. This, plus the wider theme of child abuse, is a continuing theme in Charles Dickens’s novels. I’m sure everyone can think of other cases from our group reads.

So in Nicholas Nickleby, how many have we had so far? There’s Smike, obviously, plus all the waifs and strays in Dotheboys Hall. Then there’s the Squeerses themselves, who vastly overindulge Fanny and young Wackford, yet proclaim they are like a father and mother to their cruelly neglected charges.

There are the Kenwigs family, probably living beyond their means and teaching Morleena and the other 3 daughters to be vain and pretentious (and have 2 more children forthcoming). And the Crummles, who deliberately stunt their daughter Ninetta’s growth, and deny all their children including Percy and his brother any education save that of the stage, touring around. And finally, up to a point, Nicholas and Kate’s parents; their mother being so self-absorbed, and their father so easily led into debt by his wife.

Have I missed any?

(edited - I miscounted the Kenwigs daughters with their flaxen pigtails 😆)

My favourite quotation is this one:

“Like the famous parrot, Nicholas thought a great deal, but was unable to utter a word.”

It made me think of one of Aesop’s Fables, when a man buys a parrot because of its seeming gravitas, but finds it can only say one simple sentence! 😆

Oh … but I’m going to add another about Charles Cheeryble, just because it is so lovely, and makes me hug myself:

“In this guileless and most kind simplicity, brother Charles was so happy, and in this possibility of the young lady being led to think that she was under no obligation to him, he evidently felt so sanguine and had so much delight, that Nicholas would not breathe a doubt upon the subject.”

🥰

What a long, complicated chapter this is, especially the back-story of the Cheeryble brothers, Tim Linkinwater and their three loves. What a fairytale story it all is to be sure, complete with another ogre to add to the two or three we already have. And now we have met Nicholas’s “true love” properly at last.

I look forward to everyone’s comments on this chapter.

Jean, I am so grateful for your summaries as you say, this back story was quite complicated. You simplified it so well which made the connections appear easy to make.

I am adoring the brothers Cherryble. What kind-hearted and generous men. Could we say they are Victorian philanthropists? I keep wondering how much money they have to be able to provide for so many in need. Their advice they give Nicholas is moral and wise. I loved the advice about parenting. And also, especially when Nicholas’ hot-headedness arises and is quickly dampened by Charles’ plea to have no such language (calling Mr. Bray a scoundrel.) What I loved about this chapter is seeing Nicholas’ growth in wanting to do right by the Cherrybles’ request when his instinct was to claim he wouldn’t be able to because of his love for the girl.

My favorite quote was Such is the sleight of hand by which we juggle with ourselves, and change our very weaknesses into stanch and most magnanimous virtues!

Because if anyone can influence Nicholas to be better in his weaknesses it is these brothers.

I feel as Lori does about the Cherrybles and the example they are of what a good parent ought to be, when in fact, none of the children belong to them. I am also thinking that it is good that there is Kate, who I think will distract Frank and help to leave Nicholas' Madeleine to him alone.

Not sure if this an intended theme, but I could not help thinking throughout this chapter that we see people reaping what they sow. Madeleine's mother could have had a sweet and loving husband, but she opted for a "gay young man with great friends about him". In other words, she went for the exterior and not the interior. The father, however, had a loving wife and a loving daughter. He might have had an excellent life, but we see him now, crippled unhappy and snarling, robbing both himself and his daughter of joy. A lack of gratitude of a slightly different ilk than Dorrit, but conjured him up for me anyway.

Lori wrote: "Could we say they are Victorian philanthropists?..."

Oh definitely yes, that's an excellent description of the Cheeryble brothers, just as the brothers Daniel and William Grant, on whom they were based, were in real life. It's quite clever of Charles Dickens to concentrate on their good works I think, rather than any details about their business. That side is all a bit hazy, so that we have no idea really how they became so successful at it, to the extent that they spend hardly any time on it now! But with their evil counterpart Ralph Nickleby, we see his transactions, and are even told the exact, extortionate rates he demands. 😡

I agree about Charles's advice Lori - and it surprised me - because for some reason I thought they might be naive (though of course as businessman, they must be quite astute). I've gained the impression that Charles is the thinker, (Charles Dickens made sure the brainy one had his own name 😆) but love his description of Ned as an absolute lion 😂

And I also really liked the quotation you selected (but I had already been greedy and picked two!)

It's so good to see you back, Lori, and thank you so much for your kind words 😊

Bionic Jean wrote: "Bad Parenting

It occurs to me that Walter Bray is yet another example of bad parenting, which is a major theme in Nicholas Nickleby.

Initially Nicholas was inadvertently misled by N..."

To the "bad parent" discussion, I would add that Snawley, whether or not he is Smike's real father, is certainly a bad parent to his stepsons. He not only sent them to Dotheboy's Hall to get rid of them, but seemed to want to make sure they were not treated too well.